


aphrodite of astana

by gunk



Category: Metal Gear
Genre: Body Worship, Drabble, Masturbation, Masturbation in Shower, Muscles, Narcissism, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-04
Updated: 2019-03-04
Packaged: 2019-11-09 04:03:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 990
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17994482
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gunk/pseuds/gunk
Summary: Volgin enjoys some time to himself.





	aphrodite of astana

There was a certain, undeniable magnificence to the Colonel. It trailed him- across the fields that surrounded Groznyj Grad, through the halls as he made his way to quarters, right up to the door as he swiped his keycard to enter. Magnificence, dripping off of him in everything that he did. His hands shook as he pushed the keycard back into his pocket, dripping with a more tangible kind of viscosity, in the form of a quickly-building cold sweat.

He didn’t know why it always hit him at the worst of times, but it  _ did _ , and he wasn’t about to change that. It was a combination of not wanting to expend the effort, as well as simply knowing that  _ no one _ out there could demand his presence, not even Raikov. And besides- why would he want to change anything here when it was so damn fun?

Volgin dropped his jacket with a cruel smile on his face. Teeth soon gritted and hands clenching against his rubber suit, he found himself grunting. It didn’t matter what he was thinking of- his thoughts would dance around between one fantasy and the next, one gender and the next- it was all just cannon fodder in the end. The Colonel stopped, bracing himself against the doorframe of his bedroom. There would  _ always _ be time for a quickie, but today was truly a day to himself, without worrying about what chickenshit scientist he’d be pissing off by lingering in his room for a little longer than usual. He pulled the suit off as if removing a second skin (though, in a way, it had become one).

“Fuck…”

Practically stumbling into the bathroom, the image of himself in the mirror, in all of his bare and naked glory, was one that he wasn’t particularly used to. Magnificent- again, the word made itself comfortable on the tip of his tongue, though he wasn’t quite so vain as to speak it only to himself. To Raikov, to anyone else he brought back here, sure, he’d stage-whisper into their ear like one would remind an actor of their lines. Vanity was never a huge concern of his, though- after all, he wouldn’t be standing here if it was.

His full, scarred lips flattened down into a pensive expression as he inspected himself, muscles rippling from even the movement of lifting his arms. Beneath his suit, he was gorgeous- stunning, really, and  _ objectively _ so. Even one of his greatest enemies, given the chance to see him like this, would probably have had to admit that he was a true Adonis of a man. This curse, this sometimes-blessing of lightning running through his veins, may have marred him, but it didn’t matter; were the Venus de Milo, the Winged Victory, the Pieta not all appreciated just as much for their flaws as for their intact parts?

Lightning ran through his legs, but not in the typical way. The Colonel braced himself against the soulless sheen of the steel bathroom sink, still appreciating himself in the mirror. It wouldn’t be enough, but it was  _ just nearly _ so. He flexed, seeing his rippled scars dance across his chest and arms. His chest, God, his chest. Given the opportunity and the will to do so, he could have crushed a man’s head with his pectoral muscles, thick enough and strong enough to hold an artist’s pen  _ and _ inkwell. Ok, that was an exaggeration, but...the pen alone, definitely.

Volgin’s lips curled into another cruel smile, this time without teeth. He pushed his arms towards his chest, then brought them together in a bodybuilder’s pose- stereotyped, cliched, sure, but  _ magnificent _ nonetheless. More lighting, still metaphorical, ran through his body, and he knew that he couldn’t sustain this forever. He tried not to focus on his body as he began to run the shower, though his arms, adorned with railroad track-scars and a barely-visible dusting of golden body hair, were trying desperately to distract him.

‘ _ Warm enough _ ,’ he murmured to himself before frantically stepping into the still-slightly-cool shower. It was Kazakhstan in winter- what more could he expect, really? He shuddered, but his body- one very specific part of it- didn’t seem to notice the chill.

Weathered less by scarring than by life’s more mundane effects, his thighs were a gift in and of themselves. They were as muscular as any other part of him- that was to say, ‘nearly grotesquely so’- but they had softened just a bit at the inner edges from age. Age meant nearly nothing to him, and he felt confident in that. It hadn’t slowed, and it wouldn’t slow, him down, just like it wouldn’t stop him from finding him this outrageously fucking handsome.

With one hand braced against the shower wall, Volgin gripped himself, as immense down there as his frame would have implied. Well,  _ bulky _ , more like, but width tended to win over more people than length ever did, in practice. It was only difficult for  _ him _ , it turned out, as gripping himself with an oversized hand tended to lead to more frantic strokes than he really wanted. It didn’t matter, really; he knew that he could never manage to languish in this, as the first good thought would always hit him with the force of a thousand, and he would be doubled over and nearly screaming within moments.  
  
The Colonel panted, but to his credit, he never yelled. He could have, and with no repercussions, but...well, by this point, it was a matter of personal pride. The water was shut off after a quick once-over, and he was out of the stall and back into his suit within no time. The jacket stayed off- he didn’t quite feel ready to return to his men just yet- but as he carefully assembled the rest of his outfit, Volgin found himself focusing just a  _ bit _ harder than usual on the flex of his body as he bent and twisted.


End file.
